


Canon? Non Existant

by Nostalgia_and_the_vibes



Series: The House Rules [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Calliste the original character, I'm a bad writer, Mild Cursing, She will have too many powers, This is is my first fic, and is a bit ridiculous and kid of overkill, and lots of issues, and too many weapons, may be some dark humor in future chapters, mental issues, probably spelled that wrong, she's a bit crazy, what a nice pile of cliche
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27121879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nostalgia_and_the_vibes/pseuds/Nostalgia_and_the_vibes
Summary: Calliste or as know by her superiors, catalyst, is a Hydra weapon, training for Hydra since she lost her parents. One day she escapes during a mission gone wrong (sorry that sounds so cliché) hoping for adventure. Testing her powers and exploring, she catches the interest of a certain organization resulting in an interesting experience... Warning she may be a bit crazy and definitely has too much power and is a weapons master.OrShield needs to chill and Avengers find two kids with some interesting problems to basically adopt.
Relationships: Avengers Team & Original Female Character(s), Peter Parker & Original Female Character(s)
Series: The House Rules [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979668
Kudos: 3





	1. No Place For Failure

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Peter and His Super Family](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14825648) by [all_things_fandom_and_stuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_things_fandom_and_stuff/pseuds/all_things_fandom_and_stuff). 



> Thanks for clicking on this fic. Warning this may be a garbage fire. Feel free to comment and or suggest on this story. Relationship suggestions are welcome but please remember & is a friend / is not. Please be kind, and sorry for any and all grammatical errors. I have been wanting to write a fic like this for a while and I love it when stories get kind of overkill with some of the characters. Be warned, I don't really have an update schedule but I will try and update when I can.

Don’t get caught. Vincent, my warden or handler, as they call our ‘mentors’, tells me that the targets deserve their ends. They are ‘disloyal, disgraceful, foolish’ that they have betrayed us in one way or another. Deserve death because they were stupid enough to do these things and be found out. There is no room for traitors here especially ones who are terrible at hiding. It’s drilled into us from the beginning, betray and it will be your last regret. Get caught and you are as good as dead either way. These are just the house rules. 

It makes sense. If you are captured you are useless and you deserve your fate. Be captured and you might as well not come back. And failure, disobedience, or mistakes, forget it. For those too valuable there is a fate much worse than being an outcast. Anyone who has been here for more than a year has seen them. Those who come back from ‘the cage’, as we call it. People go in and shells come out, obedient, and quiet. If the cage isn’t enough for them, the next step is being a lab rat. Only one person has survived experimenting, though she’s not all there. Everyone else who has been a test subject, either died from the chemicals or went insane and were killed one way or another.

I broke the rules. I got caught, but I survived.

It happened on our 8th mission, we had just been assigned 4 targets. Killing the first two was quick and easy. But life’s never easy. Someone set off an alarm. We’ve been found out. I thought as shots rang out. 2 bullets found their targets, one in my leg, another in my shoulder. Taking off in a sprint (a very shaky and faltering one), and reaching the quinjet I turned to Stephen, my best friend and brother in anything but blood. He was limping as well, but there was no time to check his injuries as soldiers flooded out of the exits.

...

...

...

It was our handler himself who threw us in the cage. What looked like two tables with several restraints on each were lined up next to each other in the back of the room. A cement walled dark room that became too dark to see in when the door closed unless lit by the sole lightbulb embedded in the ceiling. He looked all too proud to do it too. Vincent never liked me, I never knew why though. He always stamped out my happiness whenever it showed on my face. Even going as far as mentioning the death of my parents. “It’s your fault your parents died, they deserted because of you. You gave them something to be afraid of, and it cost them their lives. We lost 2 perfectly good operatives and all we got back was you.” Stephen was the perfect one, he was found on the street and raised and “perfected” by the cruel man. A sad shake of the head after glancing back was the only acknowledgement Vincent gave to their past though. I took in the dried blood and scratches around the room as the door closed, bathing us in darkness. I stiffened and Stephen squeezed my hand. “Together?” he asked, “Together” I said.

An hour later, the punishment began.

The light turned on, startling me into awareness. Two men came in wearing black from head to toe, and faces covered as well, hauling us on to the tables and fastening restraints. A third one rolled in a cart full of weapons and tools and left again. “Golden boy and the murderous orphan, the inseparable tag team, never thought you two would end up in here.” Man One began as the other sorted through the tools. “Looks like Harold picked some fun ones for you today”, Man 

One said. “Come pick one out Seth,” called Harold. Harold appeared next to me with a cruel grin and a hammer, while Seth walked up to Stephen with a knife. Sharing a grin the men started at the same time. I clenched my and struggled to stay quiet as Harold slammed the hammer down again and again, breaking each finger and moving to the rest of my hand. Stephen screamed as Seth started carving into him. Blood trickled down the sides of his table. My tear filled eyes met his, a silent reaffirmation of our promise. Together. I held on to my tiny piece of hope as the crunch of bone continued.  
…  
They left for a while and came back with more weapons. The toture seemed to last an eternity. And they left again.  
…

It went on like this for days.  
…

After what I assume was about 2 month from my counting and switching between weapons several times, Seth and Harold got bored. “It’s no fun if they don’t scream”, stated Seth. “They should be begging for forgiveness by now”, said Harold. “Maybe some needless will get us results”, Seth replied. Fear flashed in Stephen’s eyes making the faces of our abusers split into twin grins. My table jolted as they rolled us to the lab for the scientists to begin their experimenting. Stephen locked eyes with me like we had done countless times before. Together.

…

Needles, needles, needles. Again and again. Stab, inject, another stab for a sample.  
…

After a while I stopped feeling it. Numb to everything except Stephen. Together. We remind each other. Together.  
…

They let us out today. We haven’t seen the sun in a while, and they gave us a few days before we continue training. I stare at the wall of my quarters, wondering how Stephen is doing. Looking for something to do, I go into the vents and make my way to his room. After a couple turns and some whispering he joins me. We continue our journey through the vents until we reach the area with our contraband. Some snacks we’ve collected along with two pillows and blankets are tucked into a corner. I dig through the pile and unearth a laptop we fixed a couple of years ago. Victor was going to get rid of it because it wasn’t working, but what he didn’t know was that we had taken out the battery and put it back together as a prank. We stole the laptop before it found its way to the trash and have been using the device ever since.

I pull out some headphones (I bought them on one of our missions) and we curl up in a blanket as Stephen picks something to watch. Neither of us is really paying attention. Neither of us is really okay. But we’re together.

...

...

...

There's something weird going on, and I think Stephen's noticed too. There was a fire today, I don't even know how it started, probably one of the new recruits. Stephen and I went to help, but as soon as we walked near the room, the flames just, went out. extinguished. Like they were never there in the first place. The next day during training, when Vincent was insulting me, as usual, he threw his sunglasses down. They started to melt, right there on the floor. Soon there was only a puddle of melted plastic and what looked to be burn marks on my Handler's face. He mumbled something scientists spilling chemicals in the lab and speed walked away. I was tired after that for some reason, and went back to my room.

...

...

...

The lightbulb in the (mess hall I guess, it's where we all eat) went out today. Stephen was complaining about its annoying buzzing and then it just popped. That made me laugh a little Well until all the other lights broke and people were sending angry glares at us. I got in trouble for it and was stuck on cleaning duty. Worth it.  
…

…

...

A little while later we are sent on our first mission since the pit. It’s on the other side of the planet. Once again it was relatively easy, no one ever suspects the “rich kids fooling around”. It was a little slower than usual though since we’re a bit rusty. I honestly don’t care about this stuff anymore. But I will do what my brother does and really there’s nothing for me anywhere else. The first part of the mission is complete. We venture back to our hotel room and get ready for the next target. All these rich idiots together in one room. Especially the traitors who are dumb enough to be in the same place when they have common enemies. Basically inviting us to pick them off one by one.  
…

…

…

As we made our way back to New York the pilot said we would have to jump out. We couldn’t see why until we saw the swarms of what appeared to be aliens. They were everywhere. “I’ve always wanted to jump without a parachute. Haven’t you brother?” I said. “Let’s go for a dive.” he replied, as we linked arms and jumped out. Landing in a smooth tuck and roll on a nearby building I had wondered what possibly could have happened while we were gone for all of this to start. I found a fire escape and called for Stephen to join me. A shield flew by at what seemed to be lightning speed, a lifeless alien rams into Stephen and I. He loses his grip on the railing, but I grab him as I quicken our descent. 

Bullets, arrows, that ugly shield, energy from a flying red tincan, green fists, and. A hammer? With a cosplayer attached? Flying through New York. The whole area is full of chaos and it’s hard to dodge, but I’d rather be back at the base on time. A few floors from a jump able layer of the fire escape, I am jolted out of my thoughts by several more aliens flying towards us. The blonde cosplayer takes off flying while someone shooting arrows and a woman with a gun runs off as well. I finally realize why they were running as something explodes next us. We fall through the window and crashdown to the bottom floor (on the inside) of the building. 

The ceiling is crumbling as the battle continues to rage on outside. I get up dust myself off, and without looking, extend a hand to Stephen. “It seems we fall a lot these days. Right brother?”, I mused. To that I received no reply, and he still hadn’t taken my hand. Looking down I saw my whole world shatter. Stephen, my only friend, my other half, my brother, laid there taking shallow rasping breaths. Metal, glass, and concrete on his chest. “Calliste.” He calls. Then looked up at me and with a broken laugh and spluttering cough he uttered his last words, “Sister, I guess I broke our promise.” The light left his eyes and I kneeled there in the pool of his blood.

Empty. Anger and bitterness flooded my heart, washing over me like a wave. I scrambled for something, anything and I felt myself fill with something. Loud enough to echo through the building, I sobbed. The building exploded. Running in an attempt to not be crushed by the upper floors, I left. As I looked to the sky I saw the flying red tin can man (Iron Man or whatever, he’s a tin can), he was carrying a bomb.

There was death everywhere. Despite being a trained assassin, I gagged. Not only disgusted by this massacre, but with myself for being weak. I'm done. Just done with all of this.  
…

…

…

Back at the base, I turned in my mission report. Few questioned where Stephen was but Vincent who was only upset because of the time he “wasted, training a useless brat”. I snapped. Lunging at Vincent I pulled a knife out of my belt. As we stopped rolling it was digging into his throat. “Don’t ever talk about my brother. You didn’t deserve to even be near him. You should have died instead.” I growled punching him with one fist and still holding the knife with the other. Someone came up behind me and hauled me up. “You’re just as weak as he was.” Vincent claimed, snickering. I saw red. Pulling myself from the grip of my captor, I stab my handler. He’ll have to wear an eye patch for the rest of his days. And missing a piece of my soul I lost another bit of my sanity. 

…

...

…

They took me to the cage to see if I’d learn my lesson. I laughed when the tortured me.  
They kept trying.  
For a month. And it didn’t work.  
…  
I cackled when they stabbed me with more needles. Not even a flinch, just laughter.  
…  
…  
…

A new room. They said the things here had only been used with one other person. I think I got electrocuted, but I couldn’t really be sure.  
My brain was mush. Besides some my sanity’s already gone. What’s a little more?  
…  
…  
…

I didn’t know how long it had been since Stephen died, I thought, slowly reaching consciousness. The haze finally left my mind, I opened my eyes to find a man staring at me. He’s probably here to help with more torture, I had considered at the time. The man started speaking in Russian and the haze came back.

“Anger.

Blazing.

Vent.

Midnight.

23.

Vengeful.

Nine.

Roost.

Two.

Rubble.”

A pause.

“Soldier?”

“Catalyst, ready to comply.”


	2. What Comes Next?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aunt may is the sweetest. Some time skips. Peter Parker gets sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the chapter title is a Hamilton reference. I'm going to try and participate in NaNoWriMo at least some what. Warning: I will not always be consistent with updating, but I will try. The next few chapters will either move very slowly or very fast.

Welp. This is what happens when you get caught, I think as my mind once again reaches awareness. I’m back in my room at the base and the only clue as to what I’ve been doing is some guns that I have apparently cleaned and some knives I’m still working on. Yup. That solves that. Another one dead. 

Trying to pass the time, I pull myself into the vents with practiced skill and silence. I keep going and find myself in Stephen’s room. I’ve been here so many times, played so many card games, rounds of chess, and generally just fooled around. The room is untouched, no one has even been in here since my brother died. I grab as much of his stuff as I can carry and go back into the vents. Back to our safe space. Our little home in the madness. It feels wrong, empty without him. I put down his stuff and go through our corner of stolen things. 

We thought of running away once. I even kept an extra duffel bag from one of our missions. For the first time in a while, I cry. Continuing to push everything to the side my hand touches a box wrapped in newspaper. Of course he hid it here. The one gift we get each other every year. Nobody celebrates holidays, for obvious reasons. So every year we manage to get each other a gift and hide it somewhere. It turns into a game, sneaking through the base looking for our gift and trying not to get caught at the same time. I hid his gift up here too, something I made on one of the times my leg was healing and they stuck me on mechanics in the lab. Cufflinks that can poison people while you shake their hand or generally interact. And the antidote of course, because they haven’t been tested yet and neither of us could afford to die. Funny how life likes to throw things right back in our faces in the most painful ways possible.

Harnessing my courage I pick up the gift and unwrap the newspaper. There’s a note folded up on top.

“Remember when you were on your last solo mission and I told you I found something cool, but wouldn’t tell you what it was. Well here it is. When you were gone I got bored and did some snooping. Turns out our bosses are a lot shittier than we thought. That night with your parents, something weird happened, the records don’t say exactly, but apparently this had something to do with it. I know it’s yours though, you’ll know why when you see it. I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to tell you. You can slap me when you’re done reading.

Your brother in anything but blood,  
Stephen”

It’s a shifting array of green and blue, and varying shades of red and yellow, all seemingly engraved in silver chains. There’s a ribbon with my name on it, ‘Calliste’ in sprawling print. I touch the necklace. It’s glowing? Cool, but weird, like me. I think with a smile as I clasp it around my neck.

With a sigh I make my decision. I’ll leave for both of us, I’ll escape this cage, I live for you brother.

I shove everything in the duffel bag and start planning my escape.

…

At dawn, with practiced grace, I silently travel through the vents. Reaching the roof I open the grate just enough to see outside. The guard on duty left for his coffee and donuts, perfect. Going to the edge, I jump down, tuck and roll, and get ready to run. 

All the alarms go off.

There’s a quinjet flying towards us. Wait. No one is supposed to come back from a mission for at least 2 days. Who is that? My question is answered when the aircraft lands, and none other than flying tin can man steps out. Great. The Avengers are here.

He's about 100 meters away. Is that her? I hear him ask as he looks straight at me. Crap. I take off running and I am almost to my motorcycle. An all too familiar patriotic vibranium dinner plate rams into me. I catch before it can return to its owner and continue running. Something zings off the shield as I shift my stance. Bullets. They begin to rain down on me. There in front of me clad in leather is none other than Black Widow. Double shit. I barely register the base exploding behind me as I here Vincent begin to yell at me in Russian.

"Anger

Blazing"

I start running.

"Vent"

My mind is hazing over again.

"Midnight

23

Vengeful"

I'm lost in the fog.

"Nine

Roost

Two

Rubble"

I black out.

"Catalyst?"

"Ready to comply."

…

The fog is gone. It looks like someone shot Vincent. Good. From what I can see, all of the Avengers are down. Wait. Where’s Hawkeye? My question is answered as I catch 2 arrows, barely registering the one in my leg. I snap the shaft, pulling out the projectile. And promptly pass out.

…

I wake up to the sound of a door opening. There’s a bandage around my calf and cement walls. Widow walks in, but I don’t register anything she says, nor will I listen to one of my brother’s murderers. I stare at the walls. Blood. Tears. Together. But I am alone. I feel myself getting smacked and laugh, just looking up at her. I keep laughing as she leaves the room.

…

A half an hour later none other than the tin can man himself walks in. Tony Stark. “I never thought Hydra’s best assassin would be an insane child soldier” he says in greeting, “or that they would be one of the things to pull me out of retirement. You’re tiny too. How old are you anyway like 12?” I look down and shrug, “We don’t really celebrate birthdays, so I don’t actually know.” “I guess cradle robbing wouldn’t matter to them as long as you’re capable,” he continues. “Although I did find some stuff on your parents.” The room gets colder. “Why do you even work for them? You were there when Hydra killed your parents-” he trailed off staring at me. “What the?! Your eyes! And your neck. And?!” “What?” I questioned. “How do you not notice that this room is suddenly freezing and you are on fire and glowing?!” he exclaimed. “I thought I was the insane one.” I laughed looking at myself. Wait. “WHAT THE HELL?” And the miffed slightly pale, billionaire exited the room.

…

No one’s been here in an hour and I’m soooo bored. Guess I’ll escape now. What happens next will forever be one of the weirdest moments of my life. The camera in the wall just combusts. It’s not even really broken, it just stops working. And I find myself standing on the outer side of the door. Or at least what’s left of it. The steal just, disintegrated. Mega strange but whatever. I keep going.

…

Well this isn’t going to end well, I think as I stare down some of the Avengers.

…

A few bruises and cuts later I’m back in my cell.  
It goes on like this for a few days.  
Every night I pass out afterwards.  
Everyday I try again.

…

I stop after a week.

…

I receive food at least once a day, most times I don’t eat it though. And the utensils are useless. Styrofoam and plastic forks.  
At least I have a blanket.  
And days continue.

…

One afternoon they go raid another Hydra base that I may or may not have tipped them off on. The files I’ve seen say there’s a weapon there and honestly everyone can go suffer and die together.  
Eventually the team comes back (I can hear the Iron Man suit and a Quinjet) and they start to celebrate something.  
That night all hell breaks loose.  
And while they’re running around like chickens with heads cut off.   
I leave.

…

New York is the worst.  
Here I am walking around with my duffel bag. Evading the freakin Avengers while they scramble and with my luck I get caught up in some random fight. Apparently it’s not just a fight either, because some mob boss looking guys are shooting at each other. Great. I pull out some of my throwing stars (a gift from Stephen a couple years ago) and before I can throw them some weird black and red spandex guy with katanas shows up. 

…

All the gang members are dead, most of them decapitated. And then what I think is their backup arrives. They’re shooting at me. 

Nice.

Guess I should do something about that.  
I hurl my shuriken and pull out the guns strapped to my thighs.   
A minute later they’re all dead and Deadpool just stares at me.   
“Unaliving people is my job!” he whines. I just raise an eyebrow and say “You were too slow” then begin walking away. Seconds later I shiver as he taps me on the shoulder. “You can’t just... Hey are you okay?” Continuing to shiver, I nod hoisting my bag back over my shoulder, and speed walk away. 

…

Still shivering, I walk around until I can find a place with some semblance of food. I find a place called Delmar's and buy a sandwich. Wait where did this money even come from? Whatever. Wolfing down my food I leave and try to find an alley or something to spend the night in.

… 

Walking around to a place somewhere near Queens I hear someone call for help. A middle aged woman has a knife held to her throat in an alley. Might as well help. I run over to disarm the man and while he is distracted, the one whips something from her purse. And it’s pepper spray. I know because my eyes are burning. The man who is now flailing around because of the pepper spray is about to stab the woman. I lunge to push her out of the way, the blade narrowly avoiding her neck and sinking into my upper back. Great. I release a loud sigh as the man runs away. Bleeding out in an alley on my first night of freedom. But clearly the woman has other plans as she begins to pull me towards the neighborhoods. After a while, with the last of my consciousness, she pulls me into an apartment and I pass out on the floor with two new voices barely registering in my mind.

…

…

...

Barely opening my eyelids, and keeping my heart rate slow, I take in my surroundings. I’m in an apartment, there is a tv in front of me, the kitchen seems to be in the next room from the burnt food smell. I must be on the couch I think, as a brown haired boy walks up to me and asks, “Are you hungry?” My stomach responds before I do and that seems to be answer enough. He leads me over to a table, pours two bowls of cereal, and we begin to eat. “What’s your name? I’m Peter by the way.” “Calliste, and thank you, for everything”, I say and go back to devouring my breakfast. The woman from last night walks in with a man, who from the wedding rings, is most likely her husband. “Oh, you’re awake. My name is May, this is Ben, and I see you’ve met my nephew Peter.” The aforementioned boy’s head snaps up and he looks at the clock. He runs around shoving things in his backpack with a muttered, “I’ll be late to class again”. He dashes out the door yelling, “Bye Uncle Ben, Aunt May, Calliste!” I finish my cereal, look at the 2 adults left in the room, and start washing dishes, including a pan of what I assume is burnt eggs.

…

After a while Ben finally breaks the silence, “Do you have anyone we can call to get you? Your parents must be worried.” “Nope” I respond with a snort. I glance around the room looking for an exit as May and Ben stare at each other. The Parkers (I saw some mail), have a silent debate until Ben just nods. “You can stay here for now.” 

…

May takes me with her to work after Ben leaves. I tell her I’m going out for a bit and head for a bank.

…

After 2 hours, a bunch of fake documentation, an alias I made that Hydra still doesn’t know about, and a bunch of money of which origins I am unaware, I have 2 bank accounts, 2 credit cards, 1 debit card, and a certificate of deposit (I have money and am taking precautions to keep it that way). I venture around New York and buy myself a burner phone, a smartphone, a data plan, and keep exploring until it is 30 minutes before May’s shift is over. Heading to a random grocery store I buy her some groceries because I need to say thank you. 

…

When May leaves the hospital surprise is evident on her face, “You didn’t have to do that.” “I wanted to.” is all I say before hailing a cab. The drive is short and I pay the cab driver and sprint to the apartment before May has a chance to say anything. “You are very strange Calliste.”

…

Peter gets home just as May and I finish cleaning. I turn off the stove, cover the pasta, take the garlic bread out of the oven, and greet him as he walks by. May calls him back, “Peter clear some space in your room for Calliste.” “Okay,” is the only thing Peter replies with. I start to protest but am quickly told off. “He has an extra bunk, and if you are going to be staying for while you might as well use it.” I continue to sputter and protest and she continues to ignore me.

…

Ben gets home and we all eat together. Everyone talks about their day and I sit quietly observing. I’m zoning out and snap back to reality when Peter asks about my schooling. “I’ve only ever been home schooled.” I lie. “Well, you should be going to school, it’s the law,” Ben states. Sensing my discomfort, May changes the subject. The night goes on and eventually we all go to sleep.

…

…

…

It takes about a week, but with the help of Peter, some shady documentation on my part, and lots of entry exams, we go to the same school. Although, it’s almost the end of the school year and I had to take the finals online to get in. The law is the law, I actually go on campus Monday morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanx again for choosing to inhale these garbage fire fumes. Until next chapter muh dudes...


	3. Fold your hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer: I own NOTHING*
> 
> This might be a bit all over the place but stay with me here. Our lovely main character may get a small reality check.

On Sunday afternoon I get ready for clothes shopping. Peter lost a bet (in his defence I am a trained assassin so of course my throwing is accurate) that involved me throwing a toothpick through some fruit loops. Now he has to come with me and hold whatever I buy. The person in question is still sleeping but the situation is quickly remedied with lots of poking. Hearing a groan I stop my assault and begin speaking, “Peter, it’s already 2 and today’s our shopping day, get uuuuuuup.” He throws a pillow that I easily deflect and return, some feathers land on the ground, I then leave the room to make some food.

…

In 30 minutes we’re heading for the mall. Coming out of the dressing room I realize Peter is completely bored and playing… Little Alchemy? Alright then. I find some clothes I think would look nice on him and start throwing accessories at him, “we aren’t leaving till you try all of those on.” I stare at him and we have a silent battle of wills, I win. He sighs, we switch places, and he spends the next 10 minutes in the dressing room. 

“Do all of those clothes fit?” “yes”, he mutters in response. “Good, shoes are next.” Just like with May, he tries to protest but I’m already swiping my card to pay. 

…

Returning to the apartment I fold my clothes and put them on the top bunk heading back out for groceries. When I get back I ask Peter for help and we cook dinner together. There were a few slip ups but he’s not that bad at cooking, then I do some cleaning (why are there so many feathers on the ground), May and Ben arrive home and we all eat dinner together. “So what did you guys do today?”, May asks. “I got some clothes for school and dragged Peter along.” We all laugh, even Peter who’s trying and failing to hide it. After dinner we spend the night talking and playing card games (I demolish everyone and Peter is convinced I’m somehow cheating). 

Eventually we all get ready for bed, we school and work tomorrow after all.  
“Hey Peter?” “Yes Calle?” “Do you think I’ll do well at Midtown?” “Yeah.” “Thank you мой друг.” (my friend)

… 

…

I get up early and go for a long run, deciding to explore a nearby park. There aren’t many people, but I guess that’s to be expected at 5:30 am. Pulling a feather off my sweatpants, I put on the wonderful gift that is Spotify (Peter told me about it), and the first song that comes on is Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked. I look around for the fastest runner. Why, you ask? Because I am competitive and the need to win at something first thing in the morning is what gets me ready for the day. 

I see a blonde man with a baseball cap on and make it my mission to pass him.  
The man starts running faster, so I follow suit. Catching up to him I realize 2 things. The first, that this may have been a reckless idea. The second, well let’s just say karma is a bitch.

I’m racing the good old American jackass, Steve Rogers. 

I don’t think he’s seen my face yet, so I just bolt and of course life is laughing at me with the help of Spotify because;

“Oh there ain't no rest for the wicked  
Money don't grow on trees  
I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed  
There ain't nothing in this world for free”

And Captain America is still trying to keep up.

“Oh no, I can't slow down, I can't hold back  
Though you know, I wish I could  
Oh no there ain't no rest for the wicked  
Until we close our eyes for good”

The song finishes just as I reach an alley and I’m sure I’ve lost Rogers. Life sucks. And if I don’t go back now I won’t have time to shower before school.

...

School is pretty cool, especially because I may or may not have hacked the school after I got accepted to make sure Peter and I have the same schedule. Well except for the fact that he has band while I have orchestra ( I want to learn how to play the violin). Oh and one other thing.

Flash Thompson is a nuisance.

When we walked into the building this morning Peter introduced me to his friends Ned and MJ. I talked to them for a while, subconsciously giving my stamp of approval (not that they need it) when I hear something that may cause a homicide. “Hey Penis Parker, who’s the new girl?”, said the dead man walking. “I’m sorry, who are you?”, I asked. “I’m Flash, and by the way you might wanna hang out with someone else before you get branded as a loser.” he said signing his death warrant. I tensed getting ready to deck this jerk before Peter puts his hand on my shoulder and looks at me shaking his head. Fine. 

“Однажды его не будет здесь, когда вы пригласите смерть. И ничто не помешает мне танцевать на твоей могиле.” (One day he will not be here when you invite death. And nothing will stop me from dancing on your grave.) I gave him the glare equivalent of death by a thousand stabs.

“Whatever, stay with the losers”, the idiot said, clearly not understanding. This time Peter didn’t have a chance to grab me and I close enough to Flash to whisper. “Insult my friend again and you may just lose your tongue.” His eyes widened in fear and he scurried away, my face split into a cheshire cat grin. I’ve made my point. Mj nodded in approval and Ned and Peter laughed. I grabbed my stuff and we all walked to class together. “Hey Calliste, I think you dropped this when you were threatening Flash,” MJ walks over to me holding a gold feather. I just shrug and accept it, it looks like one of the ones from the apartment. Weird, but cool. 

…

The rest of the day is great. But I can't help but remember my morning run. Of all the people to possibly run into. And I can't even blame the star spangled jerk this time. It was my fault. I was being careless.

What if he had followed me? What if he had caught me and I got hauled off? Would I even be able to escape this time? What would Peter think? Would they come after him too?

I need to be more careful. And I can't let them get hurt because I'm selfish. I have to go.

…

At dinner that night I talk about my day and try to keep smiling while guilt ways me down. Of course this doesn't work on everyone.

"Calle what's wrong?" Peter asks, pulling me aside immediately after dinner.

"Nothing, I'm just thinking."

"Don't lie I know something's up."

"Well I... I... 

....

....

....

....

....

....

....

....

Schools been back in session. I still see Peter at school, but I mostly avoid everyone. 

Everyday I come home to my lonely apartment.

A place in Hell's Kitchen with so much space it feels like a black hole.  
6 months since I slipped away from the Avengers and I still can't get my shit together.

At least the Parkers are safe.  
They don't need my problems adding to theirs.


	4. Chapter 4

Here I am in my apartment finally adding some decoration to my bedroom even though I've had it set up for a while. The mix of seafoam and teal walls make the place a bit more inviting silver and black bedding, a bean bag in the corner, a nightstand with a few weapons and some of my school work. A safe with money in it, some loose floorboards that may or may not have weapons underneath. There is a door leading to my bathroom which has a first aid kit, a nice sized bathtub and shower, and the necessities. Like the rest of the apartment, the decor is black blue and silver/gray.

Walking into the kitchen I get ready to make dinner for myself and my neighbor who always seems to be sneaking out of his firescape. Going through my cabinets, I avoid my large stashes of candy corn and chocolate to find some actual food. My cooking skills aren’t great, but they’re not bad either. Besides, anyone can make a burrito. Finishing my food I wrap up the extra plate and put my shoes on. 

I’m about to leave when something rams into my window like a bug on a windshield. Great, another red vigilante, that makes 3. And they’re bleeding out on my firescape, guess I’d better go fix that. Walking over, I open my window and glare down at the newest vigilante. They take off their mask revealing a face I know all too well. He smiles weakly.

“Hi Calliste.”

And my only friend, the high school nerd and apparent vigilante, the one and only Peter Parker, promptly passes out. 

  
  


* * *

…

* * *

Usually Peter is on the paler side, he is constantly and endlessly teased about it by everyone, especially after the summer when people come back with tans. I don't necessarily believe it's fair to compare him to me because my skin is, as I like to call it, a perfectly blended caramel chocolate shade. Right now instead of his regular lightened peach complexion, he was about as tan

As a generally decent person, I go through my bathroom cabinets for the first aid kit. Being myself, I don't necessarily feel bad when I pour the peroxide in his cuts. He awakens with a hiss, and I laugh as he glares.

Damn, I'm out of gauze, I think while dragging Peter with me as I finally go to deliver the extra meal. 

* * *

* * *

"Matt," I yell before I start banging on the door. I never receive an answer though and his door creaks open on the first knock. There's a trail of blood leading to the bathroom and another red vigilante on the floor. *Siiiiiiiiigh* I put down the food and start treating Matt's wounds too. I shiver. Weird.

"What do you need help with now Calliste?", the older vigilante asks. 

Well, I came for more gauze for this idiot but I found you bleeding out instead. Also why didn't you just call me for help, or Deadpool, or-” I am cut off by a wave of nausea but I hold it back and just shake my head. 

Oh great, I’m sick now. 

Body, shut up, we have more important things to be doing than weakly removing my amazing (not really) cooking. 

Washing my mouth out in the sink, I go back to treating the fools.

Of course there’s still the matter of the people who left two of the males in red this way. I feel sorry for them, well… Not really.

After harassing the two for information, I go off to finish what they started. 

* * *

* * *

Why do these places always have to be so gross, I think as I slam another gang member into the brick in a dark, gross smelling, soggy alley. Of course the friendly neighborhood Spiderman is my fool of a friend and his self sacrificing ways. This is kind of fun though, I wish he would have asked for help earlier, then I would be doing this after sewing up stab wounds from crusty knives. Hygiene people, clean your weapons, they’re disgusting. 

After knocking out (and restraining) everyone but one person, I use the opportunity to get some information on Matt’s thugs. Apparently they’re at some place called “Sister Margaret's”, what a weird name. But it seems to be a hub for the underworldly type. I’ll have to sneak in though because it has been brought to my attention that I look younger than baby faced Peter (I am but I wouldn’t tell him that). Popping some gum into my mouth, I pull my sunglasses on, call the police with a phone one of the gang members must have dropped and calmly walk away. What’s with the gold and silver feathers everywhere?

  
  


* * *

…

* * *

~~song time~~

Definitely a bar, I can smell it from here, alcohol, cigarettes, and smoke from other burning things oozes from the area. It wafts out of the unassuming building, practically a beacon for the shady. Walking towards the structure, I run into Deadpool yet again, another member of what I’ll start calling, the boys in red. 

“Why are you here? Aren’t you like 12? How did you find out about this place? Matt’s gonna kill me and then kill me again when I come back-” the mercenary begins rambling. Lowering my shades, “I have some business to take care of.” The headphones go in.

_ ~~ Steel to my trembling lips, how did the night ever get like this?~~ _

I state coldly, punctuating my statement with the pop of my gum while pushing my sunglasses back up. Entering the building I scan the room and get ready to cross another thing off my bucket list, start a bar fight.

_ ~~ One shot and the whiskey goes down, down, down ~~ _

I locate my 3 targets and goons as I walk into the bar. A few people look up with questioning stares, but soon pretend to resume their business when they notice Deadpool walking beside me. He walks off with the mention of someone named Weasle is I do a mental inventory of all my weapons. 

_ ~~ Bottom of the bottle hits, Waking up my mind as I throw a fit ~~ _

Two of my throwing knives slide into my hands with practiced ease. The next second they're embedded in the wall above heads. Warning shots. Some take notice at the abrupt way three people are standing others ignore them. The men glance around paranoia in their gazes. A pair of eyes lock on me and I smirk. Let the games begin.

_ ~~ The breakin is takin me down, down, down ~~ _

Lunge, stab, block, duck, cut, stab, stab, stab. Adrenaline pumps through my blood as more and more people join the fight. 

_ ~~ My hearts beating faster I know what I'm after. ~~ _

I missed this. A good fight, especially with- No he's not here anymore.  **FOCUS.** Oh cool, there's a rusty knife in my thigh, you sir deserve to be backhanded.

_ ~~ I've been standing here my whole life, everything I've seen twice ~~ _

Oh shit, I think they hit something important. My legs are going numb, I need to wrap this up.

Deadpool stands on a table pointing his smoking gun to the sky. “I’m all for a good drunk brawl, but Weasle says you have to leave or he’ll pull the trigger next.” I shrug and pull at some rope tying my targets together with it and dragging them out after using zip ties. “Sorry it got out of hand, I just came to take out some trash,” I comment, giving the merc my best feral wolf smile. Not so smoothly though, I end up biting my own bottom lip. Nice. Throwing a smirk back at Deadpool, reaching the exit. Why is he tilting his head like that? Weirdo. Also what is it with this city and the gold and silver feathers everywhere?

Leaving the thugs on the street and calling the police, I drop the burner (I borrowed it from one of them) on the sidewalk. Taking out my phone I take a selfie and laugh as the fools in zip ties and plasma rope struggle. The cackling continues all the way back to my apartment.

I walk in to find both of the idiots in red asleep on the couch (another photo for the album). I get a sleeping bag from my apartment and lay it out in Matt's living room. Staring and the ceiling I recollect the day's events.

* * *

Next Day (Back at Calle’s apartment) 

* * *

Standing in my kitchen at 7 in the morning, I try to teach Peter some cooking skills. It’s mostly quiet except for the sizzling of bacon and the occasional, “flip that before it burns”. I can tell there’s something Peter wants to say to me but he just keeps his mouth shut. I can’t complain though, it’s quiet and the food isn’t burning. Well, at least until I start talking. “Hey Peter, aren’t May and Ben gonna wonder why you aren’t home?”

And the tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

“...”

“Peter? Wait, why are you crying?”

“Ben’s dead. It’s my fault, I killed him I-”

“PETER BENJAMIN PARKER. There is not an evil bone in your body and you can barely get the straw through a capri sun. You did not kill Ben, you couldn’t have killed Ben. No matter what happened, IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT.” 

“But he got shot and I could have done something. I could have stopped him, I-”

“Stop. It’s not your fault, so just stop. Someone shot him right? That means we have someone to hunt down. Now sit down, eat breakfast, call May, and get ready for school.” 


	5. And We're Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tag team is back together after a briefly explained time apart (once again, i'm not good at this). Calliste has some things to share, and Spidey gains a partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long. I was doing finals and I barely had any time to write and then I was helping my relatives with something. Here is the next chapter, thanx for reading.

Walking to school reminds me how much I've missed being around Peter. It also reminds me how much my spine feels like it’s about to be snapped in half and how much my teeth dig into my jaw with every step. Though I don’t know why either of these things is happening. Anyway, back to Peter, and the stark contrast in our behavior. We both may always be moving but Peter's twitching is puppy energy, excited and energetic. Mine is more of the, I can't sit still, my spine has this weird prickling feeling kind. The one that makes me feel like someone's watching me. Glancing at the resident hero however, there seems to be nothing wrong. His ‘spidey sense’ doesn’t seem to be going off but maybe his powers work differently. Wait. His powers? My powers? Our powers? Life is confusing. At this point i think it’s just trying to get rid of me.

~~~~~~ flashback ~~~~~~~

He needs to stop putting the weight of the world on his shoulders. Or maybe just gain a bit of self-preservation, I think as I brush my insanely curly brown/black hair. I try and put the brush down so I can braid my hair but it's stuck to my hand. 

"Peter! I need some help."

"Yes, you do."

Ugh "just come help me with this, my brush is stuck."

He walks in, eyes going wide as the brush refuses to move. “Are your powers like some infectious disease or something because this is new.”

“Cool. We should run some tests or something. How did you even get powers? Did you get all of them or just the one? Why does-”

“Peter! Can you stop being a nerd for one second and help me figure this out?”

“Okay, okay. Just relax and you should unstick.”

“Fine.” After a few minutes the brush clatters to the floor.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” He says laughing.

“Shut up.”

“Never!” he yells running to the living room. I follow suit chasing after him until I am hit in the face with a pillow. A pillow fight ensues.

~~~~~~ flashback end~~~~~~

I am pulled from my memories as we reach the school. Ned and Michelle happily come and greet Peter, but the atmosphere grows tense as soon as they see me. This leaves two options, should I;

Stay and lie about why I've been virtually nonexistent for the past few? Walk away and avoid confrontation? Tell the truth and watch them hate me? 

Apparently choosing took too long, they are all staring at me now. We awkwardly stand there for a few more seconds and then I'm saved by the bell. "Later" I say speeding down the hallway to class. 

  
  


...

  
  


I avoid everyone at lunch. No questions. No answers. No awkward silence or long suspicious stares. My back on a blanket on the school’s roof. Nothing but me, the sky, and my thoughts. It’s supposed to be on the colder side today, but as always, I feel nothing. Thoughts of numbness take me down to the dark chasms of my mind. Where the pain is locked away. Where the worst memories are stored. 

Where  _ they  _ are. 

At the edge of my mind, in the blackest corner they wait. 3 of them, and counting my own personality and conscience, there are four demons in my head. I know them very well, all except for one. 

The first as i mentioned before, my personality and conscience always walking the narrow tightrope of morality. The second, my unbridled rage, a powder keg, a time bomb, simply waiting to go off. The third, my programming, a separate personality. Always loyal, mindless, and quick to obey. The perfect hydra weapon, especially in bombs and espionage (as i’ve been told), Catalyst. She sets things off leaving naught but destruction and suffering in her wake. 

The fourth is a mystery to me. I have no idea where it came from, how it got here, or what it wants. It sits there in my head, quietly waiting for something. Only occasionally peering past its barrier. The only reason I’m aware of its existence is because it did much more once. It thrashed and slammed against the confines of my mind once. Howling, screaming, weeping with me, as I watched the light leave my brother’s eyes. The day Stephen died we were the same, we felt the same, helpless and full of pain. And it wants to be known.

Somewhere distant a bell rings. I guess I have to get to class.

  
  


School goes by pretty quickly. Flash is annoying as ever, and he ended up being my partner for an experiment. One of his goons was absent and he decided that since I have been spending much time with Peter lately, it was okay to make fun of him. He learned the hard way that it is very much not. His beaker may or may not have mysteriously and inexplicably exploded.

  
  


Dropping Peter off at his apartment with a promise/threat that I would join him on patrol later. I ventured back to Hell's Kitchen to finish up some things before them. Homework takes me about five minutes -i had already finished most of it in class- and I realize I have way too much time. 

I clean. I clean my entire apartment. My stomach grumbles and I go foraging through my kitchen cabinets. Three sandwiches later and I'm still starving. Damn Pete his cool powers, stupid metabolism, and whatever weirdness is going on with me. I shouldn't have skipped lunch. 

Welp time to go shopping. 

  
  


So… It turns out I spent so much time buying food that I forgot to actually. I should probably wolf down something before I leave but I’m already late and Peter might start patrol without me. I throw on my combat suit, (it may be from Hydra but it’s better protection than what probably would have been work out clothes). It still needs… Something. But, I don't have time for that, locking my door, and taking the stairs to the roof, I head out.

I never thought jumping from rooftops could be like this. I mean, I've done it before but it  didn’t end well was never this easy. It takes a while and there are a few hiccups (who throws bottles at random rooftops), but soon I’m meeting Peter in Queen’s. Specifically the roof of Delmar’s where we will be returning afterwards for sandwiches. 

“Hey Webs,” I say, making him aware of my presence. “Hi.” a pause. I can basically see the gears turning in his head. “Ask your question.” I say with little enthusiasm. “What name are you gonna use? Do you have a superhero name? We need to work on your outfit design. Do you have anything you want to be your trademark? We could match. This is gonna be fun.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Call me… Crimson”

And with that I ran off quickly being joined by Peter, to stop a mugging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, New Year, and I hope Covid-19 ends. Until next time. Wear a mask, remember social distancing, please and thank you.


	6. Oh Wait.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Common sense achieved. People should use wet floor signs. Not the broken glass! A Disney like encounter with a mysterious stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make no sense. Sorry for taking so long I kept rewriting because I couldn't decide what part of the plot to develop first. Enjoy.

It’s been a good month so far, I think as Peter webs up one gang member and I punch the other. “Crimson. Crimson? You okay? You’re getting kind of spacey.” Peter (or Spidey right now i guess) asked, albeit with a bit of humor at the name. 

“Nah. I’m just thinking.” I say, hog tying the group together with zip ties. It’s been an overall quiet night. My stomach growls in immediate contradiction. 

“Do you wanna come grab a snack with me or something?” I ask hopefully but with a hint of embarrassment in my tone. Gosh when did I get so… needy? 

“I can’t, May’s gonna be home soon cuz she’s working an extra shift. One of the doctor’s got into a _ really _ bad accident last week and they still haven’t found a real replacement. At least that’s what May keeps saying,” he comments thoughtfully. 

“Alright well see you-” he’s already swinging off. Oh well. Oh wait, shit I forgot. I’m late for work.

* * *

  
  


The merc bar is crowded as ever, and it looks like someone started without me. I take out 6 of my throwing knives ~I never go anywhere without knives, even if I can’t use them on patrol~ and a couple seconds later they’re pinning the offenders against the wall. I glare down the group collecting my weapons. I turn to leave, but one of them ~some random new guy~ has the audacity to spit at my feet. My head snaps back so hard I almost get whiplash. A migraine starts to form tearing at my skull as my spine feels like it’s on fire.  _ You should make an example of him.  _ My face twitches into a smile and my teeth stab into my bottom lip. With an impossibly quiet voice I ask, “Do you value your life?” The man immediately makes eye contact with me and the blood drains from his face as he begins to cower. Wimp. I’m not even that intimidating. I’m like barely 5’1 and extra scrawny. “Take it outside!” The men shuffle out and I can’t help but laugh.

Anyway. It’s payday. But I still have a shift before I grab my paycheck. Another night of listening to lonely mercenaries, gang members, and other underworlders cry about their pitiful lives. Where they express their frustrations with alcohol, more jobs to keep them busy, and other mindless things. And as always, someone has to keep the place relatively calm. Welcome to Sister Margaret’s where people come to get rid of their problems, many times in the form of other people.

Anyway...

Time to start my shift. 

* * *

2 hours later I’m still serving drinks when Pool decides to grace us with his presence by plopping down on a seat at the bar. “Oooh nice manicure. Where do you get your nails done? Do they only sharpen them? We should have a spa day!” he remarks a little too cheerfully.

“Stop bleeding on my floor! Why is it that I always get a migraine or something when I talk to you?” I ask sarcastically. “Tis But a Flesh Wound! And the headaches are part of my charm,” he replies happily. I sigh walking away to actually do my job once, but as I turn, pain spikes through my spine locking my knees together. I slip on what I hope is alcohol, making me fall head first onto a broken whiskey bottle. As it pierces my skull I hear distant laughing. Oh wait, that’s me. Like the dumbass I am, I roll over getting more glass shards in my spine. I keep laughing until my vision gets fuzzy and fades to nothingness. 

* * *

Buildings made of gold and silver, a castle _ , is that thing polished,  _ An eHuh, I never thought I’d go to heaven. Doesn’t the bible say it’s like paved with gold or something, but like, there’s also a ton of silver here. There’s a castle here though and the streets, well I don’t exactly know what they’re made of. The world sparkles, the province surrounded by forest. A glittering lake in the distance. This is either a Disney movie or the gates. Except for the feathers, there are literally feathers everywhere, mostly of the gold variety, although there are a few silver here and there.

Welp, someone’s here to escort me to the fire and brimstone. A person in an elegant black dress walks towards me. “Hi, quick question what’s my torture gonna be? Because most things don’t work on me.” I ask, vaguely interested. 

Scarlet lips part to reveal a wide white smile and then they begin to speak. “Hello to you too. You’re not staying here so no you won’t be tortured, you have our dear friend Wade to thank for that by the way. The fool can’t rap some gauze on a wound, he gets blood everywhere.”

“I’m going to ignore that last part. What’s with the whole fairytale aesthetic thing going on here?”

“Huh, you don’t remember? These are your memories, I thought it was just the people from earth who don’t remember their childhood,” they state thoughts pensive.

“I remember my childhood. This was definitely not it. Also what’s with the feathers?”  _ In Peter’s house, at Midtown, Saint Margaret’s, the streets, in my apartment, in my room. _ Oh. Wait. 

Their smile widens more like they can read my thoughts. “You’ll be going back soon. Next time you show up here it’ll cost you.”

The person begins to fade out. “Remember normal tattoo’s don’t grow!”

What a weird thing to say.

* * *

The stench of alcohol brings me back. I hate heightened senses sometimes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about this chapter. I wanted to start of short and go from there. Thanks for reading, and once again feel free to comment and or suggest. I will add the weapons and actual powers throughout the next couple chapters. Some weapons from Scissor 7 will probably make an appearance and there will be lots of card an or knife throwing.


End file.
